


By the Chimney, With Care

by ohcaroline



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Epilogue, Multi, Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcaroline/pseuds/ohcaroline
Summary: Christmas 1956. Epilogue to Untitled (Collectors Items).





	

([reference](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8162680/chapters/18705127))

 

_December 23, 1956 - 8:34 pm_

After kicking around for over three centuries, there's not much left that can surprise me — and after the events of this particular year, there's even less. So when I walked into my house after being gone for four days on a business trip, I was prepared to find just about anything. Don't get me wrong, Mick's come a long way since he moved in with me — it's been months since he's broken anything, killed anyone, sustained major head trauma, or projectile vomited. I have to hand it to him. But he's still Mick, and with Mick you can never really be sure what you're going to get from one night to the next. So if I'd come home to find him gorging on a dozen freshies or handcuffed to a headboard or weeping behind the sofa in the fetal position, I probably wouldn't have blinked twice — but the scene that met my eyes when I walked in from the foyer, still in my coat with suitcase in hand, was so far beyond what even I could have expected that it stole the greeting right out of my open mouth. I tilted my head, trying to comprehend what I was seeing, until I finally found my voice.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Mick's skull hit the flue damper with an impressive smack, followed by muffled profanity. So much for the head trauma. He backed out of the fireplace on his hands and knees and turned to glare at me, one hand clutching his bruised noggin.

"Ouch." He rubbed his curls and frowned. "You enjoy that, don't you?"

"Coming home to a wide-angle view of your ass sticking out of my fireplace? No, Mick, not particularly." I set down my suitcase and gazed at the horror that had once been my living room. "What in God's name have you done to my house?"

The hearth in which Mick crouched had been swept clean, the gratings polished to a shine, and from the mantel hung the same evergreen garland that draped over the mirror, the clock, the torchieres, the curtain rods, and the handles of the terrace doors, where the curtains had been pulled back to show ropes of tiny white lights looped around the railings. All the tumblers and coasters and magazines had been cleared from the end tables, replaced by fat white candles trimmed with gold tinsel and braided holly twigs. Something horrible and maudlin warbled from the hi-fi, and on the sofa in front of me sat a box filled with silver twine, ropes of beads, and various other glittering atrocities.

"What does it look like?" Mick said. "I'm decorating for Christmas." He scrambled to his feet, dusting ashes from his chinos and dust from his blue polo, and wiped his healed forehead with one arm. "I was going to build a fire until I saw the state of that flue. When's the last time used this thing?"

"Hm, let me see, I think it was some time around, oh, never. Not a big fan of fire. Goes with that whole vampire thing."

"Seriously?" Mick laughed — I didn't. "Oh come on," he said, "It's just a Christmas fire. I thought this place could use a little holiday spirit."

"The only spirit I'm interested in is the one waiting for me in the icebox." I dropped my coat on the the sofa and went over to the bar, where I found my bottle of slivovitz exactly where I'd left it. I poured myself a drink and shook my head.

"Honestly, Mick, I leave you alone for four days and when I come back, do I find you drinking beer in your skivvies or chasing freshies down the hallways? No. I find you up to your ass in the fireplace after filling my house with landscaping waste and— is— is that a stocking?"

Mick snatched up the box and hugged it to his chest. "I thought you weren't coming back til after midnight. It was all gonna be done by then."

"My flight was changed. So, what, if I'd come home later it would have been even worse?"

"Worse?" He looked crestfallen. "You don't like it? I got all the fancy stuff 'cause I didn't think you'd like plastic. Look, it's real fir— smell it."

"Thank you, no. I leave the sniffing to you." I downed half my drink in one gulp, and then I stopped and said, "Wait. ...You did this for me?"

Mick pressed his lips together in a pout and looked away.

"Awww. That warms the cockles of my cold dead heart." I looked at the fresh garlands and carefully arranged baubles. "I admit, I never guessed interior decorating would be one of your talents."

That made him beam. His eyes had taken on the crazed glow I saw in every face this time of year, and I knew that if I took anything down, he'd be outside decorating the streetlamps. Humans love their rituals, and I guess Mick wasn't ready to let go of his yet. Honestly I couldn't blame him, after the year he'd had — but that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy teasing him about it.

"Only you, Mick. I leave you all by yourself with a kitchen full of liquor and the Cleaner's number in the Rolodex — you could have done whatever you wanted and no one would have ever known, and instead you turned my living room into the Santa Claus Lane Parade."

"Look Josef, I need this, OK? You know, it wasn't all that many years ago I spent Christmas in a trench in the Ardennes. After that it was a rat-hole apartment eating TV dinners in front of the space heater after playing other people's parties, and after that— well. Excuse me if I wanted to celebrate this year." He set the box on the sofa and returned to the hearth, straightening a loop of garland that had been knocked off by his ungraceful exit. "I mean, didn't you decorate your house when you were a kid? Didn't you hang stockings on the fireplace and put out cookies and milk for...whoever you had back then?"

"We didn't have stockings when I was a kid. Or a fireplace. We had farm animals. Oh, and lice. We had that."

Mick's eyebrow went up, but he quickly regrouped. "Well, I thought you'd like it. Last year you said you loved Christmas in LA."

"I'm impressed you can remember anything from that week."

"And I know I was kinda mopey after everything that happened this year—"

"Another talent: understatement."

"—so I decided I wanted to surprise you with something nice." His cheeks turned pink. "I mean I thought I'd do something nice for you. To say thank you, I mean."

"Oh, honey. And I didn't get you anything."

Mick glared at me. "You know what, forget it. It was a dumb idea."

He reached for the wreath above the clock to jerk it down, but I left my glass on the bar and came over to put a hand on his arm.

"Hey. It looks nice." I glanced into the box. "So, which stocking is mine?"

Mollified, Mick grinned. "You have to pick which one you want so you can hang it yourself. It's good luck."

"Wait — there's three in here. Who's the third one for?"

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

I laughed out loud while Mick scratched his hair. "Now that," I said, "That is celebrating." Leaning back, I called, "Come in, it's open."

The front door opened and in blew Janie, her hair tucked up in a white kerchief, her beige overcoat prickly with chill. Her arms were full of packages and shopping bags. When she saw my hat on the coat rack she stopped and craned her neck to look into the living room; spotting me there, she frowned.

"You're not supposed to be home yet!"

"And hello to you too."

Mick and I met her in the foyer; Mick took the bags while I took her coat. She pulled off her kerchief and tossed her hair until it fell around her shoulders. "You weren't supposed to see this until we had it all ready for you. Mick had his heart set on it."

"So he got you in on this too, huh? I didn't expect to see you decking the halls."

"Josef, I've thrown a holiday party every year you've known me."

"Yeah, but not—"

She shushed me and set about helping Mick with the packages. He spread the contents across the bar: two bottles of good red wine, two bottles of even better O-positive, and a box of Christmas candy wrapped in shiny paper. I picked it up to examine it.

"Are we expecting more guests?"

Janie smiled. Right on cue, the front door opened again and in swept two more figures bundled in coat and kerchief, shivering in a very human fashion. They bustled into the kitchen in a flurry of cold air and scarf fringe, setting their bags on the bar with the rest while I moved to help with their coats.

"Well if it isn't my little sugarplum," I said, and kissed Doris' cheek before turning to Trudy. "And my vánoční perník."

Trudy eyed me as she pulled off her kerchief. "What did you call me?"

I kissed her at the warm place where her hair met her temple and whispered in her ear. "Delicious."

Doris grinned. "We were supposed to go to a party tonight," she said, indicating her red cocktail dress, "but then Janie told us what Mick was doing and— well, I just had to see the look on your face when you walked in." She batted my arm playfully. "You spoiled the surprise."

"Oh no, trust me, there was plenty of surprise. And nausea."

"Don't give us that," Trudy said. "You know you love that Mick went to all this trouble for you." She smoothed down her green dress and went into the living room, where Mick had extricated himself from the tangle of scarves and shopping bags and was moving the box of decorations to a spot in the corner. Trudy looked around and nodded. "I think it looks great, Mick. You did a good job."

"Why thank you, Trudy," Mick said, gratified. He presented his cheek for the kiss she offered, and together they returned to the bar, where Janie met him with a kiss that lasted considerably longer.

"I wasn't expecting you until ten," Mick said.

"I know, but I thought you might like some company." He moved closer, but she dodged his advance and added brightly, "And now here we all are together. Isn't this nice?"

"It's so funny," Doris said. "I love that we all ended up here tonight."

"It certainly improves the evening," I said in her ear, with the look that always made her blush in the most appetizing way, and then turned to Trudy. "Fancy seeing you here, too. Not going home for Christmas?"

"My bus to Fresno leaves tomorrow. I'm good for tonight."

I glanced at Doris – she was an orphan with no siblings, but I knew she had an aunt somewhere out in one of those dusty states – but she shook her head with a smile and crooked an arm through Janie's. "I _am_ home for Christmas."

Janie returned the snuggle. They had formed such a pair since Janie was turned, from giggling gal-pals to a partnership only a human and a vampire can share; I thought it was good for both of them. Trudy came round behind them as if to join the group hug, but instead she perched her chin on Doris' shoulder and said, "I'm freezing. Is it OK if we make some coffee?"

Doris clapped her hands in delight. "I brought cocoa!" She pulled a tin of Hershey's from one of the bags and led Trudy into the kitchen, where they began rifling through the cabinets in search of mugs and spoons. Always thoughtful, Doris pulled down three more mugs and checked the percolator, which Mick had apparently kept full in my absence; I watched Trudy retrieve a kettle from the back burner, and I chuckled when she sniffed it before sticking it under the tap.

"I only had water in that," I called. "You can't heat blood in a copper pot."

"Found that one out the hard way," Janie said, grimacing.

"Not appetizing, you guys," Doris called back. "Someone put on some music!"

"One of the radio stations is playing Christmas songs," Janie said. "We were listening on the way over." She walked over to the hi-fi and fiddled with the knobs until Bing Crosby crooned from the speakers.

While the rest of us rustled up some warm refreshments, Mick got back to tinkering with my derelict fireplace. Whatever he had done to it, it must have worked; by the time Doris carried the tray of mugs into the living room, he was stacking firewood in the hearth and digging in the pocket of his chinos for a pack of matches. Janie watched him work, amused, while she moved the coffee table aside to clear a space on the carpet. The ladies kicked their shoes aside and sat on the floor in a fluff of crinoline and stocking feet; there was hot cocoa for the humans and hot O-pos for the vamps, and I ditched my jacket and shoes before settling in beside Doris, on the side furthest from the hearth. Mick noticed my choice of seating and grinned; when the kindling flared up and I flinched, he chuckled in amazement.

"Wow. You really are afraid of fire, aren't you?"

"Laugh all you want," I snapped. "It's all fun and games until a mob of angry villagers decides it's time to play Immolate The Vampire."

"Aw, what reason could anyone have to do that to you, baby?" Doris cooed.

"Are you kidding?" Trudy said, and they both laughed into their mugs.

Satisfied with both his handiwork and my discomfort, Mick clapped the dust from his hands and flopped down on the carpet beside Janie, stretching his legs out in front of him to point his feet toward the hearth. He took the mug Janie handed him and wiggled his toes inside his socks, sighing in contentment.

"This is nice."

"Do you want some help putting up the rest of the decorations?" Janie asked.

Mick looked around, then shook his head. "Nah, maybe later. I kind of like it as is."

"You don't have any stockings up," Doris said.

"We'll hang those tomorrow night — Christmas Eve."

"I hope you got Josef a big one for all the coal," Trudy snickered.

"I'm pretty sure Josef's name is on the original naughty list," Doris said. "Hence the angry villagers." The scent of chocolate had started to seep through her skin; I leaned in to smell her and murmured something against her neck that made her giggle and squirm until Trudy rolled her eyes.

"Jeez, you two, get a room."

"I intend to," I said. "And look who's talking, Miss Rookie of the Year 1956. I'm surprised you're not with one of your shiny new vamps tonight."

"I'm resting up for Janie's New Year party," she replied, unfazed. Then she winked at me. "Besides, baby, you know I'm still your little... whatever it was you called me."

"Perníček," I said. "Vánoční perník. Delicious and nutritious." I leered at her, pleased by the way she always bit her lip when a memory flashed across her face.

It sipped my drink and leaned back against the sofa. I had to admit, this was a rather nice way to unwind after a long trip. After a few minutes, when the girls settled comfortably against me as the cocoa and firelight thawed their chill, I realized that Mick had gone quiet. He was staring into the fire, his drink held forgotten in his lap; Janie sat beside him, tucking the same curl behind his ear over and over, leaving him to his thoughts. I knew better than that.

"What about you, slugger? What are you asking jolly old St. Nick for this year?"

Mick blinked and turned his head. He looked at Trudy and Doris; at the black square of the terrace doors and the tiny white lights twinkling there; at the fire he'd built, crackling safely behind the screen; at Janie, watching him as she played with his hair; and then finally at me. He smiled.

"I already got it."

All three women sighed audibly. Janie kissed Mick's cheek; Doris reached over to squeeze his leg. Trudy nudged his foot with her stocking-covered toe, and he blushed and grinned from underneath his hair."

"Give me a break," I groaned, but I had to hide my own smile behind a sip of my drink.

Doris got up just long enough to grab both bottles of wine, turning the lights off on the way back; we all refilled our empty mugs and settled into a lazy tangle of crinoline and shoeless feet. Occasionally somebody would mention going out, or finishing the decorations, or putting on a record, but nobody bothered to move. We sat there for hours, listening to the fire burn slowly down and the soft music swirl out from the hi-fi. _Through the years we all will be together, if the Fates allow..._ I pulled off my tie and tossed it on the sofa; Janie did the same with her dress jacket, and her pale shoulders glowed in the waning light as she sighed and snuggled up against Mick. I had forgotten what firelight looked like in the dark; it wasn't all bad memories, and as the evening wore on and the bottles were emptied, it became decidedly more pleasant.

Some time later on in the night, when only a few coals glowed in the hearth and two warm bodies slept against my open collar, I heard Mick sigh in the darkness. Janie's sigh answered him; I heard a few stirs of movement, then a rustle of crinoline and a soft sound from Janie.

"So tell me," Mick said to her, vampire-quiet. "Have you ever had a Christmas gift like this?"

I smiled to myself in the shadows.

"No, Mick, never," Janie said sweetly. Her skirts rustled again, and then: "Of course, that could be because I'm Jewish."

I did my best not to laugh, but a snort still came through before I could stop it. Mick kicked my foot as Janie tried not to giggle, but after a moment his low chuckle joined in. They scooted closer to us and stretched out across the carpet, Mick on his back, Janie curled against his side. Mick rested his head on my leg and ran a hand through his hair until it stuck up in a fuzzy halo in the last of the firelight.

"Merry Christmas, Mick," Janie said. "Merry Christmas, Josef."

"Merry Christmas, Janie."

Mick's head shifted as he looked up at me, his goofy grin upside-down in the dark.

"I'm glad you came home early, Josef."

I drew in a breath — evergreen and holly and candle wax, warm blood heavy with chocolate and wine, Mick's cheap aftershave and Janie's imported perfume. I shifted a little in the dark, then I looked down at Mick and smiled.

"Me too," I said.


End file.
